Monday 4th August 1879: Highbury Hall, Birmingham

A splitting headache told me that I was finally fully conscious, much though the ache made me wish elsewise. It was pitch black and I rested against a damp brick wall. In the darkness I heard soft groans whose source I could only assume were Silas and Blackwood.

“Silas?” I whispered, to an affirmative grunt. “I’m here too,” Blackwood’s gruff tenor announced.

“What happened? I was knocked out?”

“You were, but details later, Gideon, if you please,” Silas groaned.

My eyes were starting to adjust; we appeared to be in a small, square room with one of Jack’s pipes running along one wall. A puddle of water lay under a circular valve on the pipework, and a sliver of dim light crept under a barred door. I was shocked to see the condition of my two gentlemen. Silas looked worse than I remembered, bandaged around his ribs and leaking blood, and Blackwood was similarly bloodied, his torso peppered with buckshot.

“I was shot by Aston, of all people,” Blackwood explained. “And Martin tapped Dr Hawthorne to knock him out. They dragged us down here. All I remember was Macbeth saying ‘They’re no good to us dead'.

“I suppose we should be thankful for that,” I nodded, “And I can see they have left Silas’s medicine bag with us. So they really do want us alive. What on earth for?”

“I have an idea,” Blackwood said quietly, but did not elaborate.

“Never mind that, cut me free and hand me my bag,” Silas muttered. For the first time I realised that both he and Jack were bound. I made quick work of their bonds and Silas set about fixing first himself and then Jack.

“I have a terrible headache, Silas,” I hinted as he packed his things away.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? You are after all—”

“I’m sure,” I interrupted. “Just a small taste, Silas.”

Half a capful of laudanum and I felt immediately better. And still in control. I think.

The door was barred from the outside, but that wasn’t enough to stop me now I was invigorated. I used a tongue depressant from Silas’s kit to lift the bar (having determined no-one guarded our makeshift cell), then peeked out into the corridor.

“A lake!” I exclaimed upon seeing a large body of water beyond a narrow pathway. “Where on earth have they taken us?” I stepped out, cautious, and realised my mistake. “Not a lake: it’s your reservoir, Jack! Your hunch was right, again!”

The large pool of water was interspersed with beams that held a ceiling some forty feet overhead. “There’s a rowboat—we can use that to get out of here!”

“To where?” Silas frowned. “This must be under the house, or very near.”

“There’s a window on the near side,” Jack said, pointing to a barred window through which muddied sunlight shone.

“Then let us head that way,” I said.

Before we could take another step we heard a shotgun being cocked, and Macbeth appeared, aiming said weapon in our direction! “Please stay where you are,” she announced confidently. “The master will be with us shortly.”

“He’s dead, Macbeth, as we have told you repeatedly,” Silas said warily.

“Is he now?”

“Yes!” I exclaimed. “Both he and Van der Valk. I’m afraid I killed the latter, but it was either that or he would kill me!”

“Is that so, little Miss,” Macbeth sneered. “Well the Master will be pleased for you to join the cause.”

“What…cause?”

“You will know soon enough,” a male voice announced, followed by something that gave me a shock I will never forget…

Chamberlain—alive!!

“Dr Chamberlain!?” I cried. “But you are dead!”

“What did you expect, madam? I told you about the healing power of the orchid, and as you can see I was not exaggerating!”

“Healing, yes, but I saw you die!”

“I am beyond death, as you too will be shortly,” Chamberlain smiled.

“What about Van der Valk? Will he be joining us too?”

“Unfortunately Neils is no longer with us,” Chamberlain frowned.

“Look at his arm,” Silas whispered, calm in the face of the impossible. He was right: the destroyed right arm of his friend was now several feet longer than it should have been, and moved in a most tentacular manner. “What do you intend to do to us, Potters?” Silas asked.

“Only continue what you so rudely interrupted, Spikey. If you will please step back inside the chamber.”

“I’m afraid I don’t want to become a plant,” I announced, pointing to his overlong arm.

“Plant? Do I look like a plant?”

“A little,” Jack said bluntly.

“I assure you there is far more to it,” Chamberlain said. “Now, it is time to begin your transformation. Step back please, and I will administer your doses.” A syringe had appeared in his hand, full of the same luminous green liquid. Macbeth grinned, a woman pleased with her lot, and waved her shotgun menacingly.

I shook my head. “No. I don’t want to change, I like me as I am. Shoot me instead, if that is the only choice.”

Chamberlain chuckled. “Ms Harrow, always questioning. Please, there will be no pain and you will not regret it.”

“No. Shoot me.”

Macbeth glanced at Chamberlain, but he gave no indication. She looked confused as he stepped forward, and we three back. “Now, now, madam. Just a little jab and we’re done.”

I felt we were trapped. Both Jack and Silas were wounded, we had no weapons, and nowhere to run.

Almost nowhere.

I jumped off the walkway and into the rowboat floating below (making it, barely—luckily enough as I cannot swim!).

“Curses!” Chamberlain cried. Silas took my cue and charged at Macbeth, hurling her bodily into the reservoir. She fired wildly as she fell, vanishing beneath the lily-green water.

I leapt up and wrapped my arms around Chamberlain, hoping to haul him to the same fate. “Bath time, Chamberlain!” I cried. Alas he was unto a tree, seemingly rooted to the ground and utterly unmoveable. I clung to him none-the less, praying Blackwood would see the opportunity presented. He did not let me down. With a roar he charged into Chamberlain, clobbering him with a rugby tackle that would have made Daphne proud. Chamberlain was no match for Jack’s fury, and he toppled like felled timber.

As, of course, did I. In slow motion we both fell toward the water, me terrified and him furious. By some miracle I managed to land myself on the very edge of the boat, which rocked precariously, whereas Chamberlain was swallowed into the water beyond.

My victory was short-lived. Chamberlain burst to the surface a moment later, spluttering, and his ridiculous arm wrapped around my waist and drew me into the reservoir. In the same move, he pulled himself into the tiny boat and started ascending the ladder to the landing. “Spikey!” he yelled.

‘Spikey’ responded as only Spikey can: a roundhouse kick to Chamberlain’s fuming face. “Not today, Potters!”

I was meanwhile in a total panic, floundering as water soaked my voluminous dress and started to pull me under. To further complicate matters, Macbeth surfaced from her underwater sojourn, bearing down on me with ill intent. As she swam toward me I saw the boat suddenly rock of its own accord, and a moment later I felt something moving directly beneath my feet.

Something sigmoid.

An enormous, scaled snake coiled out of the water before Macbeth, opened it’s ludicrous jaw, and swallowed her whole, before submerging below the surface once more.

“Oh my god!” Blackwood gasped from above.

“Oh my god!” I gasped from below, abject terror sending me into the boat before I realised what I was doing.

“Good heavens,” Silas exclaimed, eyes wide.

“Hm,” Blackwood added thoughtfully, with a glance toward Chamberlain. He leapt over and grabbed the ladder to which Chamberlain clung. With a mighty shove he sent both back toward the suddenly much-more-dangerous water. “Spikeeeeyyyyy!” Chamberlain hollered as he fell.

As the toppled I saw an opportunity. I whipped my phallic-headed switchblade from my garter and jammed it into Chamberlain’s neck. “Bath and a shave, Doctor!” I cried triumphantly. Alas I had not accounted for Chamberlain’s own transformation: my blade a mere tickle in the trunk of a gnarled oak.

He splashed down for the second time, but re-emerged only a moment later. His tentacle grabbed for me again. “Gideon! Now!” I spun to see Silas’s reaching arm, but it was too late, and I found myself once more in the drink as Chamberlain used the leverage to get into the boat. He looked up.

I grinned even as I drowned.

Silas was in mid-air delivering an impeccable pencil-dive, jack-knifing his well-heeled boot into Chamberlain’s unexpecting face. He splashed down beside me as Silas crashed into the boat. I flailed wildly with my switchblade before grabbing Silas’s beckoning hand. He dragged me into the boat, and Jack’s reach from above got me finally to safety. Moments later Silas was at our side.

Below, Chamberlain rose from the depths once again, spluttering, his tentacle emerging ominously before the rest of him. He was wild-eyed, discombobulated, bloody of nose, almost as if someone had stomped on his face from a six-foot height.

“Potters?” Silas said solemnly, “If that’s even who I’m speaking to. At some point along the way you lost yourself, and there’s nothing I can do to help you.”

Blackwood merely stared, silent, brooding, thinking about a particular something that didn’t bear investigation. A smile crept over his face as something swirled in the water behind Chamberlain. “I hear they regurgitate their prey so they can keep feeding,” he muttered.

“And what about you, Ms Harrow?” Chamberlain growled. “Any pithy last words before you join the cause?”

“Look behind you,” I smiled.

Chamberlain laughed as the titanic biblical serpent rose again from the depths. An instant later Chamberlain was gone.

“Thank god for the snake,” I whispered.

“Told you so,” Jack said smugly.

“You did tell us, Jack,” Silas laughed. “Let’s just say next time you tell us there’s a big snake in the pipes, we’ll pay attention!”

We traipsed back to the house, wary of the reappearance of Aston and Martin (or was it Roland and Royce?), but thankfully they were nowhere to be found. Perhaps they had scarpered or Macbeth had sacrificed them to her ‘cause’.

“We need to lure the snake into the basement pipes,” Blackwood said, “Then trap it. It can’t be allowed out into the wider system.”

“The snake is not our problem,” Silas said, and for once I agreed. “We need to collect his notes, destroy the lab and any sign of Joseph’s experiment.”

“And feed Van der Valk to the creature,” Jack reminded us.

“How will we get away with this?” I said. “Too many people know we have been here, and Aston is a witness. We will be back in Newgate before we know it.”

“No, Gideon, that won’t happen. We will leave here and no-one will be the wiser. Joseph will be found missing but that will be nothing to do with us.”

“Don’t be silly, Silas! Of course people will suspect us; Clement is no fool and if he gets involved, and he will given our pedigree, he will know exactly what has happened.” I was slightly panicked at this point, the thought of being imprisoned in that place filling me with dread. Not to mention what Clement would think—to my surprise I found my feeling toward him had softened, our recent troubles forgiven it seemed.

“Calm down,” Silas said patiently. “There is perfectly reasonable explanation that we will stick to. It is well known that Joseph often travels overseas for his research, and he always takes Van der Valk with him. So that is what has taken place: a sudden trip, which explains also why we departed when we did.”

“And we will get the Baron to buy the property and clean up the animals,” Jack added.

I considered this for a few moments and slowly my heart rate recovered it’s equilibrium. “Silas you devil. That is very good, and I agree, it might just work.”

“I’m glad, Gideon,” he grinned. “Now: let’s clean things up and get out of here. Collect the orchid and we will destroy it with the rest of the lab.”

I stood stock still. “Destroy the Velvet Wraith??”

“Of course. It is far too dangerous.”

“Why don’t we give it to Molina?”

“We know nothing about Molina. There is no reason to trust him any more than Joseph.”

“The Royal Horticultural Society then, or whatever it was that Watson belonged to?”

“No, Gideon.”

“No, Silas,” I fumed, “This is my orchid now. I stole it and I will decide what happens to it.”

“I’m going to seal the cistern pipes to ensure the snake doesn’t get loose,” Jack said apologetically, no doubt wanting to get away from our small fight. “Then I’ll check the greenhouse.”

The greenhouse…

“Silas! I have it!” I cried, suddenly beaming. “We will take the Wraith back to London and I will display it in the Coffee House!”

Silas sighed. “Gideon—”

“No, Silas, this is my final decision. No-one will have the slightest idea what the plant is, nor what it can do. All they will see is a marvellous orchid of prodigious beauty. It will be a small wonder of Covent Garden: the perfect thing to attract more custom!”

I was so pleased I may have clapped my hands with excitement. Silas knew when he was beaten, dear fellow, and we each set about our assigned duties.

As it turned out, Silas also carried some contraband back to London. He was almost as excited as I had been as he tried to explain it to us in the carriage. “The petri-dish you found—and tried—had killed the culture Joseph was breeding!” he exclaimed, “It seems the yeast from the Druid’s Heath inn had somehow neutralised the effect.”

“Oh,” I said.

“Don’t you see? It means there is a way of cancelling the infection—you would never have been infected had Chamberlain injected you because you had the antibodies!”

“Ah,” I said.

Silas, for the second time in short succession, knew when he was beaten. “Trust me, Gideon, this is significant. I have taken the liberty of recovering your sample and, much like your orchid, will bring it to my own labs in London.”

“Of course you will, Silas,” I smiled triumphantly, nursing the Velvet Wraith between my thighs.